


Allergies

by bistiles (alis)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2014-04-01
Packaged: 2018-01-17 18:25:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1398001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alis/pseuds/bistiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is allergic to dogs, and is having a strong allergic reaction ever since going to Derek's. He obviously puts the blame on Derek, who gets offended, bcause he is not a dog!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Allergies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rachelismos (Sussurrando)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sussurrando/gifts).



> _TW Prompt 0: Stiles has a confession to make: He is allergic to dogs. And Derek is offended because he is NOT A DOG, STILES._  
>  Thanks Rachel [obsessedwithsmalldots @tumblr] for the prompt
> 
> Not exactly the prompt but... Thanks Rachel (

It’s Derek’s fault.

Stiles is lying on the couch, rubbing his nose and sniffing for the past twenty-four hours and the only thing he can think of is ‘it’s Derek’s fault’. Ever since he was little, Stiles was horribly allergic to fur. He first found it out when he was six and his dad came home with a tiny puppy he apparently had come across while on duty. Stiles had obviously been ecstatic with joy and latched himself on the puppy like a magnetic. His happiness though only lasted till later that evening, when he could barely breath and felt like he was suffocating so bad he crawled out of bed, puppy trailing behind him, and went to wake his mommy wake because, really, he wasn’t feeling good. That earned him a trip to the hospital (and he only agreed to go with the puppy in his arms), some nebulization and a doctor calmly telling him and his parents that the puppy was causing an allergic reaction and had to go.

Little Stiles had been devastated. 

From that day on, pets were prohibited in the Stilinski household and, while that was slightly painful for Stiles as a kid, because he really envied his friends that had pets, he quickly learned to dismiss it. Soon enough, the thoughts of having a pet became superfluous face the loss of his mother and even if once in a while he would lay down in bed, listening to the silent house and wishing he could have a wet muzzle snoring softly against his cheek like the puppy he had for less than twenty-four hours had done.  
It was almost ironic that now he was surrounded by werewolves.

The thing is, werewolves aren’t all that furry must of the time, but soon Stiles found that that they were furry enough to trigger his allergic reaction. And he found that out while he was hanging at Derek’s apartment, after a full moon, so he was 110% sure it was  
Derek’s fault.

Somehow everything was always Derek’s fault.

He was staring balefully at the wall and trying to unclog his left nostril, when said faulty person came into the apartment. He stared at Stiles with his trademark scowl, like he spent so many time being his sour-self he was physically incapable of wearing another expression.

“What?” Derek asked, ever the eloquent talker. Stiles gave him a scowl of his own. Not even as impressive, but he tried anyway.

“Hi, Derek how are you? I feel like shit, thanks for asking.” Stiles answered, noticing his voice was slightly slurred and breathy. God, he hated being sick. So. Much.

Derek blinked and his scowl got even more pronounced, which always surprised Stiles. It was amazing the number of different scowls that Derek was able to make; all his face expressions were made of scowls and he could actually transmit a range of emotions through them. But seeing as Derek was usually grumpy, annoyed or angry, he actually didn’t need all that many scowls anyway.

“If you’re sick, go home. I don’t need you dying over my couch, so out.”

Stiles spluttered indignantly. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t used to Derek’s less than charming ways, but he really wasn’t in the mood, especially when it was obviously his fault.

“Well, I would love to die somewhere else, but I took an antihistaminic and I feel drowsy – so I can’t drive home. So unless you want me to run my Jeep into a tree and die – not, wait, don’t answer that. That’s probably exactly what you want. And this is your fault so the least you can do is put up with me.”

Derek stared at Stiles for whole five seconds before rolling his eyes in the most bored fashion and walking to the so-called kitchen. It didn’t really look like a kitchen and it didn’t even have plates, table or anything really (but it did have a small oven, thank god for the small miracles) and opened the fridge (another miracle) and pulled a bottle of water out. He tossed it to Stiles, that wasn’t really expecting the gesture and ended with a cold bottle of water hitting him square on the cheek. He glared at Derek, that scowled unfazed back – and really, who cold even win Derek in a glaring match?

“Drink this and stop sulking then. It’s annoying me.” Derek said, circling the couch and holding a metal bar affixed at the wall. He pulled himself up, and Stiles would admire the glorious view that was Derek’s muscles shifting under his t-shirt, but he was way  
too annoyed for that.

“Annoying you? I’m like this because of you.”

That made Derek pause long enough to shift his grip and face Stiles, while, still working up and down. This time Stiles was graced with his abs flexing and relaxing according to the movement, and wasn’t that distracting?

“How is it my fault that you’re allergic?”

Stiles rubbed his nose, and sniffed – or tried. His nose was stuffed now. “Because I’m allergic to dogs.”

Derek stopped working out and stared at Stiles in that incredulous way that Scott once said he thinks of as “Stiles said something he shouldn’t”. Apparently that specific incredulous stare was reserved to Stiles and Stiles alone and while he was slightly put off by  
Scott of all people point out he says dumb things, he had to admit that it was pretty much true.

“You’re allergic to dogs.” Derek repeated, like he was giving Stiles a chance to change what he said. Stiles nodded in return. “I am not a dog, Stiles.” 

Any other person would be smart enough to backtrack, mostly because Derek was growling ever so slightly, but Stiles was already way too used to Derek to mind. “You have fur. It’s close enough.”

“I don’t shed fur!”

“Well, apparently you do, because duh!” He said, gesturing to his reddened eyes and running nose.

Derek got closer, walking in that menacing way of his that actually didn’t terrify Stiles anymore, but worked wonders to turn him on. Sadly, he was feeling too much like shit for that. “Keep saying that and I’m going to give you a reason to whine and sniff around me. I am not the cause of your stupid allergy, Stiles.” He huffed, so obviously offended is was a bit funny. “And I wasn’t even here on the full moon.”

Stiles made an ‘oh’ with his mouth, suddenly remembering that it was true: Derek had spent his last full moon on the subway station. So there was really no way to have fur around, unless he carried it home from the transformation, which was really really unlikely. Frowning, Stiles rubbed his nose, a bit disgusted at sheer amount of fluid that was running out and thought. If it wasn’t Derek, who had cause his allergy?

It took him a moment to realize what it was. He looked down, at the t-shirt he was wearing and groaned out loud. 

“What.” Derek practically barked and Stiles bit out saying that he sounded pretty much like a dog when he did it, because he was sure that doing so would earn him being tossed out of the apartment and it was cold outside. Also, he was hoping that he would feel better eventually, so he could move from the couch to the bed. With Derek, obviously. 

“I know the guilty party for my pitiful state right now. I slept on Scott today and, well, guess who lent me a shirt full of dog’s hair? Scott. Because OI should know he can’t differentiate clean clothes from dirty laundry and probably gave me the shirt he was wearing to work. Which is now proceeding to slowly kill me by suffocation. If I survive, I’ll be the one doing the killing, I swear.”

Impatiently, Derek got closer and tugged the hem of Stiles t-shirt up, none to gentle while doing it. 

“Hey hey hey, buy me some dinner before undressing me.”

“I never had to buy you dinner to undress you.” Stiles mentally thought he never even had to really fully undress Stiles some times, and thinking so heated his skin in a way that had nothing to do with his allergy.  
“True and that shows the sad state of our relationship, Derek, really I feel used.”

Apparently do dignified to answer, Derek just kept pulling until Stiles relented and raised his arms, allowing himself to be undressed. Derek tossed the shirt away and pointed at the corridor. “Shower. Up, now, I’m tired of your whining.”

“I’m not whining!” Stiles said, standing up and shuffling in the direction of the bathroom. Derek followed him, and he stopped to stare once they were both inside it. “What, are you going to give me a bath.”

Derek raised one eyebrow and looked. Really looked. Just that. And it was enough to have Stiles taking off his pants as fast as he could because when Derek looked at him like that? He knew he was about to get very very lucky indeed.

He even thought that maybe he should thank Scott for making him feel like death. In the end, it was completely worth it.


End file.
